Page 49 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

“Good day, Finian. Ye’re in fine fettle, I see,” she remarked, batting her lashes, her eyes twinkling. “Maither sends her love, and she wants tae ken if her medicine is ready yet, since we’re fast runnin’ out.”

“Aye, it is,” Finian answered with his usual gentle joviality, fetching a bottle from the shelves and handing it to Sheila. “There ye go, Sheila. The dosage is the same as before, but this is a wee bit stronger. Tell her I’ll be by tae see her a bit later.”

“Och, thank ye, Finian. Ye ken how we both look forward tae yer visits. Good day tae ye both.” With a last beaming look in Finian’s direction, Shelia left them alone. Lillie could not help but give into her curiosity about the relationship between the healer and Shelia.

“Well, Sheila certainly seems tae have a fancy fer ye,” she teased Finian. “Ye two seem tae get on well together. Is there somethin’ going on there?”

Finian bridled, his guileless face a picture of shock. “There most certainly is nae!” he told her. She could not help laughing at his obvious discomfort.

“Are ye sure about that? I mean, I could nae help noticin’ the way she batted her eyelashes at ye.”

Finian smiled and shook his head. “I did nae notice,” he said. But she was not sure she believed him.

“D’ye always have trouble with yer eyesight?”

He just laughed and said, “Quit yer teasin’, Lillie. I ken ye’re tryin’ tae get a rise out of me. But there’s naething between me and—.” He was cut off when, to Lily’s shock, a bell a started ringing loudly not far away. She guessed it was at the top of the keep.

“What is that? Is it an attack,” she asked Finian, her heart suddenly racing in panic, thinking it was that man Lennox come to take her away.

But Finian shook his head. “Nay, ’tis nae the signal for an attack. ’Tis something different.” He shot her a look that confused her.

“What is it then?” she asked, relieved she was not about to be carried off again.

“’Tis an emergency, someone is hurt,” Finian replied. Lillie was about to ask him more, but their attention was immediately distracted by a commotion outside in the hallway. Loud cries and urgent, alarmed voices of men floated into the room, and multiple bootsteps could be heard hurrying towards them along the hallway.

“I think ye’d better leave, Lillie,” Finian told her. She nodded and was about to do as he suggested when a group of guards entered. There were five of them, and between them they were carrying a senseless body.

Lillie shrank back against the wall to let them pass as they pushed into the room with their burden. When they passed her by, she saw who it was they were carrying. Her heart stopped beating, her hands flew to her mouth, and she let out a shrill scream.

“Diarmaid!”

She would have fallen if Ciarán had not rushed through the door just at that very moment and caught her. She grabbed his arm for support.

“’Tis Diarmaid,” she gasped, her heart restarting but now pounding wildly.

“Aye, I ken,” Ciarán replied, his face taut with worry. He put an arm around her shoulders and they approached the bed, where the guards had gently deposited Diarmaid’s limp body. Finian was already examining him.

“What happened?” he asked one of the guards, but the man shook his head, his face a mask of distress.

“We dinnae ken. We found him like this in the woods. It looks like he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. I dinnae think he’s breathin’.”

Lillie let out a cry of anguish on hearing his words, and she tried to rush towards Diarmaid.

“Nay, Lillie, let Finian see tae him,” Ciarán told her, holding her back gently. She sank against him, unable to stop the shaking that had seized her whole body.

“Ye can leave now,” Finian told the men, who appeared to be leaving only reluctantly.

“He’s alive, I can feel his pulse,” Finian announced after what felt like an eternity to Lillie, his fingers resting on Diarmaid’s throat.

“Ach, thank the Lord!” Lillie cried, her terror subsiding only a little as she watched the healer inspecting her husband’s injuries. Diarmaid’s face was so swollen and bloody, it was almost unrecognizable, and his hair was matted with blood.

Seeing him so wounded and feeling so helpless made hot tears burst from Lillie’s eyes and begin running down her cheeks. Sobs torn from deep inside issued from her lips as she clutched Ciarán’s arm convulsively.

“He’s taken a bad beating, all right,” Finian said as he peeled away Diarmaid’s bloody clothing and methodically checked him for injuries. “But it seems like his face and head took the brunt of it. I think whoever did this was tryin’ tae beat somethin’ out of him.”

“Will he survive?” Ciarán asked, his voice tight.

“I cannae tell ye that yet,” the healer told him, holding up Diarmaid’s head and examining the back of it closely. “He’s suffered a nasty blow here.” He drew his hand away, and Lillie saw it was thick with blood. When his words sank in, Lillie’s sobbing increased. All thought flew from her head. She felt suddenly empty, utterly crushed by the potential loss of Diarmaid. She could not seem to catch her breath, she was sobbing so much.